


Prophecies

by Shmeowzow



Series: Pre-Post-Apocalyptic (2103) [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 76
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26093383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shmeowzow/pseuds/Shmeowzow
Summary: Minibelle Sinclair stumbled upon an unlikely companion in Beckett while trying to re-settle Appalachia after emerging with her peers from vault 76. Recently she'd helped him free his little brother from his chem-hazy bondage atop the totem pole of a local arm of Blood Eagles, but Frankie's recent disappearance from their new home, along with disturbing dreams of the Mothman, have been plaguing Beckett recently.
Relationships: Beckett (Fallout 76)/Female Resident (Fallout 76), Female Resident/Settler Ward (Fallout 76)
Series: Pre-Post-Apocalyptic (2103) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1894543
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

I smelled burning wood and woke to darkness with a start, heart pounding in my chest– images of roaring flames consuming my home danced in my half-asleep mind, but I soon realized the scent was wafting in from outside. I felt a chill, pulling the sheets up over my bare breasts as I realized I was conspicuously alone in my bed, and a quick glance out the space between the shudders of my window revealed a small campfire burning in the pit just outside my front porch. I saw a dark figure sitting alone, bottle in hand and let out a small breath of relief; surely it was Beckett. After throwing on a long shirt and shoes and sleepily ambling outside, Beckett quickly turned to me once the sound of my boots crushing twigs and leaves underneath them drew close enough. He let out a brief sigh when he realized there was no danger, taking a swig from his bottle and relaxing a bit, again. "Shit Mini, you scared the piss out of me."

I smirked, doubting he could see it in the low light and continuing toward him, I sat down in the chair I usually occupied to his left, right in front of the fire-pit. "I was pretty freaked out too, waking up alone to the smell of smoke."

Beckett shook his head apologizing, and offered the bottle to me which I accepted, taking a small drink of the bitter burning liquid myself. "I know, I know. I was just having those fuckin' mothman dreams again and I didn't want to wake you. I know you had a long day yesterday, no thanks to me."

I remained silent, holding on to the bottle until I was ready for another swig. He was right– yesterday had been _eventful_ , to say the least– I'd spent the morning fretting with Beckett over where his little brother Frankie had gotten off to; Beck had warned me he would take off as soon as he was healthy again, and the youngest Beckett did not disappoint. The rest of my day had been utilized combing the area for Frankie around the little farming cottage in the Appalachian Mountains I had reclaimed as home in the post-apocalyptic nightmare that was now our reality; Beckett, riddled with anxiety as always, insisted on hanging back in the unlikely event that Frankie might decide to return to our care. Both of our missions turned out to be fruitless. I thought by the time we'd turned in he had let go of the worry at least for a while, but maybe I had been wrong. He didn't usually get or stay up much later than me, even when he was having his sporadic, seemingly increasing dreams that included the Mothman; a West Virginia boogeyman I had been familiar with long before the bombs fell. 

I had seen him once as a child in the winter of 2076. My mother and father told me it was my imagination, but one night after I had grown up a little and father was gone– he hadn't made it to the vault– my mother admitted to me that not only had she always believed me, she thought she'd seen him too once. I'd had horrible, paralyzing nightmares for almost a year after I had seen him inside of the treehouse at a park down the street from my childhood home; then mysteriously they stopped as suddenly as they had started.

The weird cults had been around pre-war too, though like most radical groups the apocalypse had rendered them just a touch more aggressive, and seemingly ever-present. I saw as many camps of those Mothman weirdos as I did the Blood Eagles these days, ever since the cat about all of the government's gold being sealed in a vault in our mountains scampered out of some old bag. Something worried me more about the cultists though. I said as much to Beckett, taking another drink and handing the bottle back, finally. 

"Maybe you're right. I feel like the really weird dreams began when we went to free that kid from one of their camps a month or two ago."

I had been putting off delving into specifics about my past with the Mothman to avoid causing Beck's anxious mind to go into a frenzy, but it seemed as good a time as any to tell him how I really felt about it. I sighed, kicking one of the logs deeper into the fire so the flames had a better angle of consumption. "If you're having dreams like that, it means you saw him."

We were both silent as the log I'd just nicked with my boot crackled away in the heat then Beckett finally said, "What do you mean?"

I leaned down, patting the stump near my chair for my near-empty pack of cigarettes–anything but hand-rolled was hard to come by and a high prize nowadays– and lit one up before offering another to my companion and exhaling blue smoke into the night sky stretching over the cliff in front of us. "Look, I know it's hard to wrap your head around if you didn't grow up here, but before the war people saw him in lots of other places too. It just got a lot weirder here than anywhere else, I guess."

Beckett turned to me, but the fire cast deep shadows into his sockets that made his face eerily unreadable, so I turned away, exhaling cigarette smoke again. "Wait, you're not saying...look, growing up in Maryland I heard all those stories too, but that Ohio River stuff was a hundred years before we were even born...you're not saying you think the Mothman is _real,_ do you?"

Honestly I was expecting the reaction I got from him– Beckett was already such a worrier I doubted he possessed the constitution to believe in campfire stories– but this was one tall tale I knew to be unfortunately true. "I probably wouldn't think so if I hadn't seen him a year before the bombs fell, when I was nine. My dad didn't believe me, but my mom told me in the vault that she had seen him too that day, just in a different place. Two red glowing eyes, she'd said. Just like I saw in the treehouse."

I discarded my cigarette into the flames, ending my line of thinking with, "I'm not sure if he was warning us about the bombs, or about the fact that dad wouldn't make it to the vault...or that mom wouldn't live to make it out with me. Maybe he was warning us both about different things."

Beckett seemed nervous now, body-language shifting conspicuously. 

Taking a final drag of his own cigarette before tossing it into the fire he said, "Look, we had Bloody Mary and White Ladies and all that shit in Maryland too. I've seen scarier real things than those moth cult wackadoos could ever try to throw at me. It's just stupid fucking dreams."

He rose from his chair and started ambling around in the dark for a bucket to put out the fire. I followed behind him, catching his wrist in my hand and wrapping my arms around the back of his torso, nuzzling my face into his bare shoulder-blades. "I'm sorry. I know you're stressed about Frankie...I didn't mean to freak you out more."

He relaxed in my grasp, seemingly forgetting his previous task, and his hands found my forearms in the dark, hugging them tightly. He opened his mouth as if he were going to speak, but exhaled deeply instead before simply closing it again. I let go of him, slowly turning him to face me, letting my hands snake their way up his swollen forearms to the muscles at the base of his neck, finally resting at his squared jawline– I could just make out the stubble he insisted on keeping from manifesting into a full beard in the firelight– and he sighed again, relaxing into me further. I leaned up and into his hard torso, feeling my nipples grazing it through the thin fabric of the shirt I had thrown on. 

"Mmm."

The noise accompanied another contraction of his chest, and his hands rose to grasp my much smaller ones, still cupping his face. Instinctively, I rose to press my lips to his softly; he made another noise, moving our hands to rest at his sternum, then pulling away only slightly before murmuring into the space between our mouths, "You're the only person I've ever been able to trust to touch me like this, you know?"

I nodded silently, pecking his lips lightly again– I did know– and that fact had been a large part in my trusting Beckett himself, in the first place. Every man I had ever met aside from my father and a handful of decent folks in the vault had acted entitled to my body at some point or other in our relationship; I soon figured out that wasn't going to be a problem for me with Beck. In fact, by the time we did end up finally sleeping together it was _me_ that seemed most thirsty for it. Luckily, rescuing him from the Blood Eagles, giving him a safe place to stay– Beck's friend Sage too, when he was in the area– and usurping his kid brother from a position of power in the Eagles' ranks, among other things, had convinced the elder Beckett I wasn't just out for...whatever he thought. Meat, caps, a bargaining chip with the Eagles; these days a healthy human male could serve just as many purposes dead or alive. It just so happened I never wanted any of those things from him, I was just trying to live my life and make this wasteland of fuckery a better place, and his case fell in my lap. Pleasantly close to my lap, in fact. 

I decided to show Beckett just how much I enjoyed touching him the way he implied, freeing my hands from his and letting them wander downward, nipping his bottom lip gently with my teeth, making him shudder slightly. I could feel his heartbeat picking up against my own chest as my fingers found the waistline of his jeans and dipped lower still. Our lips continued on with each other and I smiled as my hands sunk past the soft smattering of hair that lead out in a trail up towards his navel, and he gasped into my mouth when they finally found his already-swelling shaft. I nicked his bottom lip softly once more as I began unbuttoning and pulling his jeans down, settling myself on my haunches beneath him. I pressed a soft kiss to his manhood before inhaling its pleasant musk and sighing gently against it. Beckett's dominant hand had instinctively entangled itself at the back of my head but he seemed to falter. "Are you uh, sure you wanna do this out here babe?"

I smiled up at him coyly in the flickering light, making a show of glancing at the empty darkness all around us. Meeting his eyes as well as I could once more, I shrugged musing, "Why not?"

He began stammering, running his free hand through his hair, and I could just imagine how his cheeks were flushing; Beck was so easy to rile. I continued the effort to do so, taking his now-firm length into my mouth easily, sighing as I slowly slid the thickest part of him past my lips before the top of him reached the back of my throat finally. Beckett's muscles were no longer relaxed, and he seemed to be struggling not to dig his fingernails into my scalp. I could hear the air escaping his chest in haphazard, strangled breaths. I withdrew from him just as slowly as I had taken him all in, and before I knew it I could feel the cool grass against my arms and legs, and Beckett was devouring my wet center with his mouth. He was surprisingly good with his tongue for someone who hadn't had any practice before myself, and took to the task happily. He said he loved the noises I made for him more than anything he'd ever heard, and my voice certainly wasn't disappointing him at that moment. When I removed my shirt Beckett looked up, licking his lips as my breasts settled in front of him. Both hands moved their palms to cover them, and I begged for his mouth with mine, loving the way I could still taste myself there– bitter, tart, and still somehow sweet, almost like the smell of his cock. 

I felt him jut his hips into mine seconds before the electric feeling of his thick hardness filling me up took control of all my senses. We both cried out into the night desperately, and I wound my arms around his shoulders, fixing my legs together at the small of his back for leverage to match his thrusts. At that angle the friction of his navel meeting my little mound would slowly build on itself, making me lose control of the utterances stumbling out of my chest before Beckett reclaimed my mouth once more; using just a little bit of teeth himself, sucking my full bottom-lip against his tongue and then finding my own to play with. 

Beckett's grasp on my hips was borderline painful and I loved that his marks would be there for me to gloat over in the morning. We found we both had an affinity for marking each other. I decided to leave my own, breaking our kiss to press my lips against his collarbone, sucking and swirling the skin there into my mouth until I could graze upon it with my teeth. Beckett gasped a little and I smiled into him, biting down just a touch harder until he cried out and I knew it hurt. I let the sound of his voice take me to another plane, and there with the help of friction and his hips' rhythm my body and mind were soon over the edge of ecstasy– my head fell back as he drew the orgasm out of my body and I was in even less control of my wanton utterances as he continued on– almost screaming himself, now. It didn't matter how loud we screamed, there wouldn't be anyone to hear for miles.

* * *

When I awoke back in bed a second time, I wasn't alone, but Becket was sitting at the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. Turning on my side I grazed his shoulder with my fingers, making him jump. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," I whispered, kissing a cluster of freckles on his back. 

"Did I wake you?"

Beckett turned his head slightly, and through the dim morning light peeking through the shudders I could see he was frowning. "I don't think so. What has you up this early? The cicadas aren't even yelling at us yet."

Beck sighed really slowly, and without words I knew he'd had another one of the nightmares. I curled myself around the back of him, nuzzling the warm skin pressed against my face and whispered, "I shouldn't have said anything, Beck. You're right, it's just stupid ghost stories."

He rubbed his eyes pretty hard with the heels of his hands then, shaking his head slightly. "No, no, babe. You were right, I am scared, and I did see... _something_. I don't know what, but it was just like what your mom said. Two red glowing eyes that just stopped me in my tracks that night at their camp. I thought it stopped time, or my heart, because I couldn't move or breathe. Then I heard static, and this noise like a jet engine taking off, and it was over. The lights were gone."

He was breathing like he'd just outrun a swarm of mirelurks so I rose up, wrapping my arms tightly around Beckett's shoulders, pressing my lips softly against his neck and stubbled jaw, trying to soothe him. After some time I asked, "Why didn't you tell me this Beck?"

He let out a short breath, oxygen intake slowing down as I held him, but I could still feel his heart fluttering erratically every few moments. He cleared his throat, opening his mouth again to speak a few different times as if he weren't sure what words to string together. "I didn't even think it was real, I mean it was there and then it was gone. It could have been anything. Do you…," he trailed off, breathing picking up once more as he continued the thought, "do you think I saw him because something is going to happen to Frankie?"

I paused for a moment, and I wished I hadn't, because in the instant afterward, despite my words, I knew Beckett understood that I had no way to know if that was the reason he had seen the Mothman; no one did– knew why they saw him that was– until it was too late. Still I squeezed him tighter, kissed the short hairs above his ear and murmured softly that we would find Frankie together, and make sure nothing happened to him. Beck was shaking his head again, but not attempting to remove himself from my arms. "Don't do that to me...talk to me like I'm a kid to make me feel better. I know I'm a nervous guy, you seemed to pick that up pretty quick, and maybe that's my fault because of the chems, but...I know Frankie will only come back if he wants to. In his own time. And that he left because he probably doesn't want our eyes on him for a while."

I found myself nodding, turning him to face me over his shoulder, and kissing him softly. "I'm sorry. You're right. He's a smart kid though, strong too. He'll make it on his own until he decides to come say hello to his big brother."

He pulled away enough to look me in the eyes, searching them for something, seeming almost relieved as he asked, "You really think that?"

I kissed him one more time, nodding harder. "I do. Now we either need to get to work on some caffeine, or you could always lay back down with me and show me how nice that tongue of yours feels again."

"I don't know about caffeine...maybe a shot or two, but before that I would definitely be interested in putting my tongue to work wherever you think you need it, princess."

"Mmm," my stomach tightened and loosened back up again at the sound of his term of endearment. I kissed him deeper this time, let it smolder before my own tongue found his lips. I might not have known why Beck saw the Mothman, or how long his nightmares would last– let alone when or if Frankie would return– but I did know how to distract us both in the meantime.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After many weeks with no sign of Frankie, Mini and Beckett head to the settlement of Foundation to ask for leads from an old friend.

Beckett repeated the same question he had asked me at least twice before we'd set off toward Foundation that morning, "Are you sure this guy will be able to help us find Frankie? He must have left this place ages ago."

I sighed, throwing my spent cigarette out under my boot as we made our way up the dilapidated wooden steps inlaid into the cliff Foundation sat atop. I answered the same way I had the last few times, if not a little more impatiently. "I'm sure he's the best idea I have for someone who might be able to scrabble together any info on it."

Beckett grumbled and let the subject drop. I knew he was just nervous; we both figured no Frankie news was good news up to a certain point, but it had been over a month since he'd flown the coop and there was no telling what Ward would have to say when we walked into his office asking questions about the former orphan turned Blood Eagle. As we approached Foundation's main gate I narrowed my eyes to try and see if I recognized the guard on duty, but I didn't have to. I heard a voice call out, "Hey, if it isn't Her Majesty," and my heart sank when I realized it was Jimmy; nice enough kid, but he had a big mouth.

Waving feebly I replied, "Shut the fuck up, Jims."

His laugh began heartily, but it trailed off the closer Beckett and I walked to his station. When I had come to stop at his feet and Beck stood a foot or so behind me, he awkwardly cleared his throat. "Well well well, It sure has been a while. You here to see The Warden?"

I scoffed, rolling my eyes to the sun, now high in the sky. "You know he hates it when you call him that almost as much as I ever hated the whole, 'Her Majesty' thing, right?

Jimmy laughed again, but it seemed strained. Glancing nervously to Beck and back at me, he muttered, "Go right ahead."

I walked past him and around the corner, Beckett trailing quietly behind. Luckily Ward's trailer wasn't far from the gate, so there weren't many people between here and there to shoot us odd looks. Beckett was gancing around wide-eyed, taking in the changes the settlement had undergone since his initial visit I assumed, and before he'd even returned his gaze to my back we were upon the threshold of Ward's 'office'. I knocked sloppily on the frame of the trailer before stepping into the warm, claustrophobic hull I once remembered fondly, and immediately Ward's dark gaze met my own causing my heart to skip a beat; he seemed surprised to see me.

He looked as if he were about to stand up, didn't, looked at me, looked away, cleared his throat, and looked back before saying, "Minibelle, I can't say I've been expecting you. And Mini's...friend, what exactly can I do for you this afternoon?"

I glanced back at Beckett, nodding for him to relax and sit down on the couch behind me as I took my own seat on a small stool directly across Ward's desk from him. I smiled sweetly at the older man, hoping it would help our case and said, "Ward. I know it's been a while, and I'm probably in no position to ask you for a favor, but," sending one more fleeting look back at Beckett I continued, "is there any way you might be able to help me find some info on the location of my friend's kid brother?"

Ward had been sizing Beckett up for a hot minute at that point, and I almost had to ask my question again before he spoke up, not taking his eyes away from my companion. Beckett seemed confused but his face remained calm. Ward's voice rang out, "Could I speak to you alone for a moment, Mini?"

I let out a deep sigh, closing my eyes. When they reopened Ward was looking at me once more. Without glancing behind myself, I asked Beckett to leave the room politely. He didn't seem as if he really wanted to, and I didn't blame him; but both of us had Frankie in mind so he did. When the metallic whining of the trailer door ceased behind Beckett Ward let out a shallow noise, barely above a hiss. Irritated by the power-play I abrubtly asked, "What? What was so important we need to be alone?"

Ward was looking at me in a different way now that it was just us. Not in a threatening way, but definitely more probing. His smile was forced and looked like more of a grimace when he said, "New muscle?"

I could have laughed but I wasn't in the mood, so I just said, "You should know better than anyone I don't need muscle. Beckett is my friend and his brother is missing."

Ward leaned back in his chair then, seeming to relax if only slightly. "You know, I think I recognize your _friend,_ actually." 

I didn't love the way the word 'friend' had slid out of his mouth as if the following words he were about to say were sour. Since Beckett had never told me the details about having left Frankie there, I decided to deploy silence so he would elaborate.

The man in front if me took a long hard breath and then scooted out of his chair and onto his feet, boots knocking at the floor as he began to slowly pace the small stretch of trailer between us for a few moments, as if he weren't sure how to proceed. I watched him casually as he closed the blinds but not before peering through them, altering the light of the space eerily, then moved to lean his hip on his desk in front of me. "Let me paint you a picture. Couple of damn-near emaciated boys show up at my doorstep asking for a place to stay, saying they'll pull their weight. Next morning the younger one is crying that his brother ran off and left him all alone. Some time after that, and after causing no small amount of problems, the younger one up an disappears too. Grapevine says they both joined up with the Blood Eagles," Ward shot a glare toward the blinds as if he could see Beckett through them before finishing, "Sound familiar?"

I stared at Ward in the low light, truly looked at him; his posture was defensive and his crow's feet were showing. He really did seem disturbed by my familiarity with Beckett, but considering his own murky past I couldn't help but wonder if it was due to Beck's association with the Blood Eagles, or his proximity to me that got under the older man's skin, but I wasn't about to open that can of worms. Sweeping away the cobwebs of that implication, I may have aimed a little below the belt. "I'm not in league with the Blood Eagles, if that's what you're asking. And last I checked those two aren't the only ones who tried being a raider on for size in their lifetime."

Ward's gaze darkened somehow, and I knew my words had made him uncomfortable. Ward was a good man, that's why being reminded of his bloody misgivings irked him so, but he had yet to show me being a good man meant he was going to help me after our own past experiences together. I wasn't expecting him to advance, grab my wrist, and pull me toward him up out of my seat but he did, eliciting only a small breath from myself. Suddenly I was much closer to him than I had been in a very long time, but my body seemed to remember the familiarity and responded to it in a way I was entirely uncomfortable with. I closed my eyes, breathing for a few moments, trying not to remember how firm and safe his chest always felt beneath that stale, plaid button-up; before when touching me like that held a different context entirely. When I was sure I could speak I whispered, "Can you help us or not, Ward?"

He sighed, and I could feel the air rush past my ear as if he'd touched it. It beckoned the sensation of his mouth there, the warm moisture of his tongue, the way he would breathily cry my name into it with his crackled baritone. Gooseflesh had overtaken me and when he didn't answer I opened my eyes and almost gasped. If his face were any closer to mine we'd have been intimate, but before I could consider the weight of that he had cleared his throat and stepped away from me, seeming almost somber in his way; as if he'd had a similar internal reactionary experience. "I'll see what I can do."

I breathed out, ready to bury him in thanks, but he held up a leathery hand, continuing. "It will take some time. Shouldn't be more than the rest of the day before I know if I can help you or not. In the meantime," his voice lowered somehow, becoming a gravelly purr, "I need you to do a job for me."

I pushed my palms against his chest and shoved him so hard he almost stumbled backwards over his boots. His face was unreadable, but he didn't seem all that surprised by my reaction. "NO," I screamed, unphased by the thought of those outside hearing me, "Absolutely not Ward, never again."

There were three or four shrill knocks against the hull of the trailer and I heard Beckett's strained voice asking after me. I answered, not taking my eyes off of the man in front of me, "Everything's fine Beck, just a few more minutes."

Ward's attitude seemed to darken further and slowly he gestured toward the door. "Then go, Mini. If you aren't with us you're against us. You seemed so eager to leave me," he paused as if he hadn't quite meant to say that but went on, "leave this family behind before just so you could strike it out on your own and have your precious _independence,_ and don't think I haven't heard about all the help you've been giving those highwaymen at Crater since you split half of _our gold_ with them."

My eyes were wide, and I couldn't believe my ears, he was starting to sound more like the raiders themselves than the de-facto leader of a peaceful settlement. I stepped forward shoving him with one pointer finger lightly once more. "Don't you for a second pretend that independence is why I left this place when you know better. Is that seriously what you're telling everyone?"

My question had been mostly rhetorical; I didn't care what Ward was telling anybody, but he answered anyways, looking downward, "No."

I took a deep breath and said, "Good. Because as I vividly remember it, you sent me on a wild goose chace for a piece of arbitrary equipment after a _kid_ who ended up dead, and _that's_ why I left you and your family Ward. I've never helped the Crater kill _anyone,_ and I split _the_ gold with them because they also have regular families to feed, Ward. Children too, and you know that."

He sighed and it came out as an acidic hiss, disturbing the coffee-colored scruff peppering his neck and adams apple before he moved to sit back down behind his desk, resting his chin on one fist, rubbing his brow with the long, knuckley fingers of his other hand. I followed suit across from him, straitening my clothes nervously. "I don't know how many times I have to apologize for what happened that day, Mini. I've said sorry to you every way I know how."

It was true. I'd never seen anyone I was so truly convinced was sorry for something in my entire life as Ward appeared in the weeks following the incident, but that wasn't going to bring back the innocent life he so carelessly destroyed, however indirectly. Killing was sometimes necessary in post-apocalyptia, and more often deserved than not, but I never practiced it with disregard, and I never endangerrd the lives of those who couldn't defend themselves if I could help it. Buried deep inside of me was the feeling, or opinion, that Ward could have prevented what had happened. Softly I said the only thing that made sense, "It's not enough, Ward. I don't have any idea what would be. That's why I had to leave."

He opened the drawer of his desk, withdrawing a bottle of amber liquid before taking a swig and offering it to me. I obliged, setting it back down with a heavy clink after I was finished, letting the burning sensation chase back the sorrow I still felt. "I can promise you it's not a kid this time, but I do truly need your help. Our last reserve of stimpaks were taken when we took in one of those mothman weirdos pretending to be injured. Luckily, the case has a tracker on it. You remember the old frequency?"

I glared at him across from me, wondering if this job were really that urgent; was it really their _last_ case of stims? He had lied to me, or at least fudged the truth about a few of the times he'd ask me to find equipment of his that had walked off. The fact that he had been ballsy enough to even ask after what happened last time leant weight to him either being very stupid and heartless; neither things I believed the man in front of me to be, or actually needing my help. He seemed to sense I was weighing my decision silently because he said softly, "I'll beg if you want me to, Mini. And you have my word I'll do whatever I can to russle up some noise about the little raider."

"Frankie," I corrected him, nodding that I would do the fucking job, and Ward parroted the name back in monotone, probably to placate me, before going on to write down some coordinates. When he was done scribbling I snatched the chit of paper from his grasp and turned to the door.

* * *

When Beckett and I were tens of yards away from the gate to Foundation he finally asked in a low, worried tone, "You uh, gonna tell me what that was all about?"

I took a deep breath in and glanced at the map on my pip-boy to make sure we were headed the right direction before letting it out and continuing south- as it turned out the cultist hadn't wandered very far. "When I first left the vault I didn't have anywhere to go. I was just a kid when I went in, and I didn't have my mom, so I really didn't know where to look for a place to settle down. Some of the vaulters split up into groups, but I figured life would be easier if I decided to try living by myself; less mouths to feed, less idle hands to worry about."

Beckett nodded and said, "Makes sense. Before joining some of the gangs I always felt less anxious when it was just me and Frankie. Less people to steal from you, or betray you. But it also means less people have your back."

"Yeah, I ran into that problem too."

I sighed, taking a drink from the canteen on my belt, and decided to rummage for my cigarrettes in the outer pocket of my backpack. I continued when I had one lit, exhaling smoke into the mountain air. "I made it almost a year without any major incidents, camping out here and there, trying to follow the path our overseer laid out for us when she struck out. Anyways, I got a little too close to a deathclaw protecting her nest from a couple of yao-guai near where Foundation is now, when settlers from up north and everywhere else had been slowly trickling in."

Beckett had started keeping pace with me, now by my side he exclaimed, "Shit, here I thought I was a tough guy fighting the fight with rabid dogs. You came out the other side of a deathclaw brawling some yao-guai?"

I chuckled. "It would be more accurate to say I fell into and was promptly and violently ejected from it, but your way works too. Anyway, Ward found me knocked out in the brush with a group scouting for building materials. I must have only been there a day or so, because I wasn't too dehydrated, but it's likely that they saved my life."

Beckett nodded, seeming grim then. "Who knows how much longer you would have made it before something else big and terrifying came sniffing around."

I glanced at my pip-boy once more as I crushed my cigarette under my boot, noticing we were about two or so miles out of the tracking area, which was good news because even if we had enough daylight to get back to Foundation after retrieving the case of stimpaks, the wind had turned since we departed, and some dark clouds were gaining on us from the east. "So I guess long story short, Wade and I used to be kind of a thing and I stuck around for a while after I healed up. I'd rather not go into why I stopped seeing him and left right now, but I settled down where we're staying and haven't really spoken to him since. He hid out pretty well while I was helping Paige and his crew into the bullion vault, and I didn't go looking for him either until today."

Beckett let out a low whistle, exhaling when I was finally finished. I could smell moisture on the dirt in the air, and knew it must have started raining somewhere close by. Beck glanced upward seeming to take passing notice of the oncoming clouds as well, but when he looked back at me his eyes were all serious. "Well, I can't say I didn't suspect that was the case, and I've definitely been dreading what feelings hearing you say you'd slept with another man might rustle up, but whatever feeling it was has passed and I'm just...thankful he decided to help us with Frankie."

I nodded silently, listening to the twigs crunch as we walked. "And uh, I understand if you don't want to talk about what happened right now. I just wish you'd told me he was your ex before, you know? I might have tried to look more...I don't know, imposing."

I couldn't help but snort out a laugh, elbowing Beckett in the ribs playfully. I knew Beck could be imposing, and he had the goods to back that image up if need be, but it wasn't his natural state; chem-sobriety suited him well, and he was almost always playful and laid-back when he wasn't worried about his little brother. "Well if we end up needing help from any more of my exes I'll make sure you give you a heads up, Mr. Imposing."

Beckett laughed and it made me smile. He'd been laughing more and more since I helped him sort things out with the Blood Eagles, but now that Frankie had been MIA for so long I could see the happiness we'd worked so hard to build slipping. "Wait, how many more erm... _living,_ exes do you have for us to run into?"

His question gave me pause but I tried not to show it, only casting him a sideways smirk and mumbling, "A lady never tells, Becky."

The eastern clouds had now completely overtaken our path and the wind had picked up considerably, causing both Beckett and myself to pull scarves over our faces to avoid the dust it was kicking at us. I had been able to see our destination for about a half mile at that point. Like Foundation it was fortified up into the hills; what seemed like a series of large houses. Beckett made a nervous noise to my side and I turned just in time to hear a crunch and another anxious sound. "What is it?"

I shone my pip-light down to what appeared to be a bunch of twigs and bone draped together with red twine. Beckett brushed his arms off as if that would reverse stepping on the little thing. I shrugged, deciding we were close enough to dial my radio to the property tracker. It began to tick slowly and eerily, filling in the gaps between gusts of wind. "At least you know we're probably headed in the right direction."

Beckett stared at me as we continued walking down the winding path before it spiraled upward into the trees and mountains once more. "Oh? Comforting."

When we finally approached the closest monolithic structure, It struck me as oddly familiar. Not because of the cultist paraphernalia littering the place; they had that at all of their camps. Then I realized I had cleared this property out on a job for Ward before. We tried to keep a wide perimeter around Foundation clear of groups that could be close enough to sneak in, and all I'd had to do to rid the ruins of the cultists was pull a few cheap tricks. The funny thing about the mothman cult folks was that their suggestibility made them incredibly easy to frighten, so I rarely had to get in firefights with them when pretending to be a ghost in whatever already spooky, dilapadated mansion they had holed themselves up in usually sufficed. The added benefit of free entertainment certainly wasn't wasted on me either.

I said as much to Beckett and he seemed relieved, but according to my tracker either the case was abandoned here or we weren't alone. I only hoped the cultist that had made off with Ward's stims was using this as a safe house while they waited for backup, and hadn't received it already. I wasn't sure the same group, if it was members of that group, would fall for my spook show a second time. I motioned for Beckett to follow me inside the dark structure, figuring our chances of only running into the thief were good due to a distinct lack of noise and light in the place. At first our footsteps were met with silence, but then a crack of thunder and the flash of lightning that followed had Beckett and I ill at ease; still we pushed further. Beckett cursed under his breath lamenting, "We're definitely gonna catch that rain."

I sighed, nodding. He was right, that thunder hadn't been right on top of us, but it was dammed close, and if the wind hadn't changed, which was highly unlikely, it would be right behind us and gaining. After a time I thought I heard the soft, dusty fluttering of wings, swinging my gun and light to meet a staircase around the corner. Beckett had his gun pointed behind me, breathing labored. I nodded over my shoulder that everything in my view was clear, and we continued on up the creaking stairs. With each noise my heart leapt, wondering which would be the one that alerted whoever was in here to our presence, but we made it to the top with no incident. I heard another muted flutter and swung to my right, seeing nothing in the hallway preceding me. Another crack of thunder and flash of lightning rang through the structure and it took a moment to get my breath back under control. 

I heard a quiet, tinny voice through a doorway to my left, turned and immediately fired a warning shot into the darkness in front of me when I was sure I had seen our target. I heard Beckett yell, and then the cry of an unidentified individual. Flashing my pip-light in front of me, I rushed into the room and found a heap of a person whimpering and huddled in the corner. Ward's tracker was beeping furiously to fill the otherwise silence. The heap spoke, "I didn't even want the stimpaks! I thought the bag was full of chems..."

"Well, try finding your own supplies next time," I was about to continue before I heard the beating again this time behind me, and Beckett was screaming before I had even turned around to see what was going on. I saw a large mass with chittering wings and glowing red eyes, so I fired in tandem with Beckett's own shots, then I heard some kind of screeching like the sound like a plane taking off and seconds later Beckett and I were on the floor with nothing but our voices in the room.

Ward's tracking device was beeping more furiously than ever, and when I regained my breath I made my way to the bag of stims in the room before turning the tracker off. Beckett was still almost gasping, "What the Fuck was that?! W-where did that person go?"

Trying as hard as possible to return my own breathing to normal, I whispered, "I have no fucking idea." 

I grabbed the stims we had come for and shoved them into my backpack the moment another crack of thunder and flash of lightning hit, louder and brighter than the others; right overhead. Then the deafening, almost bullet-like barrage of rainfall began to hit the crumbling roof. "Come on."

I gathered our things and grabbed Beckett by the arm trying to move us inward, to a part of the house that might not leak too badly. Finally we collapsed in what was probably an old bathroom where we could hear the storm but not feel it, in the hopes we would be able to wait it out safely. Now that we were alone a quietness hung in the air over top of the white noise of belligerent raindrops, so quiet I could hear Beckett was still breathing rather frantically. Sitting across from him with my knees up, I reached forward to squeeze his hand. He retuned the pressure, so tightly I could tell he was still well and truly shaken. It was too dark to read his expression clearly, but I didn't have to. His voice was a pitch or so higher than usual when he asked, "Was that the Mothman that attacked us?"

I wasn't entirely sure what happened, least of all concerning how the theif had just disappeared without either of us noticing, but I did know one thing. "No. I'm not sure what the hell that thing was, but it's more likely that it was just some kind of animal the rads have gotten to. The Mothman doesn't intervene in the lives of humans, it's just...a harbinger."

He paused for a moment, breathing seeming to slow. "How do you know that? And what happened to the person that was in there with us?"

I massaged Beckett's hand gently with my thumb, trying to soothe him just as another thunderclap made us both jump. "Lets just say I had a morbid fascination with the thing ever since I saw it as a kid. To be honest, there wasn't much else for me to do in the vault when I was young but read and help my mom out. I never really made many friends, because all of the people my age were either spoiled rich kids with important parents or other military brats like me, but I didn't get along with many of them either. And that guy probanly got scared and ran off while we were knocked down."

I wasn't sure about that last part, but it was the only reasonable explanation I could come up with, and I was going to leave it at that. I could sense Beckett nodding, "You're probably right. I'm just real wound up still, I guess."

I leaned forward slowly as more thunder rolled overhead, close enough to see Beckett's worried features soften now that he could look at my face. Using my other hand I wiped at a dark smudge on his cheekbone, then pressed myself further into him, hovering above his lips with mine. "I think I have a cure for that."

Beckett's voice rumbled out of his chest, low and gravelly but still a little anxious, "Oh yeah?"

I met his gaze for a moment, nodding seductively before just grazing his mouth with a kiss, leaving an opening for him to make the next move. He returned the pressure with double force, almost too quickly; as if his mind were just waiting to jump at the chance to focus on anything but how scared he had been, and how momentarily stranded we were. I melted into him further and he wound his arms around me, pawing at the small of my back where I had a sensitive spot. The sensation sent tingles through my body and my spine arched instingtively, moving my groin to grind against his in a motion that dragged small noises out of the both of us. Without separating my lips from his I unbuttoned his trousers and withdrew the length of him into my hands, lavishing his hardening shaft with my warm fingers. Beckett started to sigh softly into my mouth and I could feel myself wettening for him already. I raised myself up to remove my own clothing standing between us and wasted no time in sliding back into my lovers lap, invading his mouth with my tongue once more. Beckett was arching his hips slightly, using my moisture to slicken his shaft, sending more electric waves up my back and into my arms. I pulled away to look at his face, loving how heavy-lidded his eyes were. Impatient now and with little resistance, I took Beckett inside of me and moved myself back downward into his lap. We both cried out into the dank little space and Beckett's hands grasped my hips tightly as he frantically hammered his own up into mine; not gently at all any more.

I buried my hands in his thick hair and let our lower bodies do most of the work, feeling the burning in my quads but using the pain to fuel my frantic motions. I could hear Beckett louder than the rain, even louder than the wind, and I pitched my voice in with more abandon to help drown it all out completely, while I worked on drowning myself in my lover's body. It didn't take long for the friction to start building warmth in my center, and when the warmth was too much I let it go nearly screaming Beckett's name as thunder crashed overhead once more, clawing at the back of his head as I rode him through the waves of my orgasm. When I could think again I removed myself from Beckett's body and he sighed, frustrated, until I replaced my womb with my mouth, then the noises that came out of him were frantic and mindless. His fingers tangled in my curls and I could feel him just barely pressing my head closer and closer in time with the motion of my lips. 

Relaxing my throat around his girth, I let him guide my head down slowly until my nose touched his navel, and I could go no further. The movement of Beckets's hips was shallow and erratic after that, he couldn't catch his breath but he still cried out strained with every one he could grasp until finally his entire body tightened, and he spilled himself into my mouth and throat screaming expletives. I swallowed his cream down, smiling at the quivering pile of limbs in front of me. 

When we were both coherent again, we mutually decided on waiting to make the two or so hour walk back to Foundation when the sun was back up. Going in the dark was one thing, but it was still raining albeit more softly, and I didn't feel like cleaning mud off my things when we returned home, or weakening my immune system in the elements. We found an old couch in another room to crash on under the wool blanket I had rolled on my backpack, and spent the rest of the evening enjoying the warmth of one-another. Some nights when we had a hard time falling asleep I would hum random melodies to pass the time, and when Beckett asked me to that night I did until we both drifted off.

* * *

I woke up just before sunrise and decided we should head out, that way maybe we could get to Foundation and be back at the house before afternoon. I was more comfortable hiking in the darkness of the morning, and by the time we left the old house most things seemed to have dried.

I could tell something was up at Foundation before we even reached the gate, and I had a good idea what. I noticed one of the guards squinting at Beckett and I through a pair of old binoculars, and he signalled another one frantically; I assumed to notify Ward we had returned. I suspected he would raise a fuss when we didn't make it back last night, but there wasn't much I could have done about it without walking for miles in the rain. Both of the guards posted at the gate were missing and as we passed the threshold I saw them huddled around Ward's trailer. The man himself was just outside the door, and seemed to sense we had arrived almost as soon as we were in eyeshot, because he turned and looked me in the eyes before surprising me by breaking into a brisk jog and scooping me into an embrace when he reached me. Ward smelled exactly the way I remembered, and I almost got lost in the phatom sensation that experience triggered within me. I found myself awkwardly returning the hug, not wanting to be impolite. For better or worse, I still considered Ward an ally. Finally I patted his arm twice before pulling away from him. I was becoming anxiously aware of the eyes and ears all around. Beckett cleared his throat behind us and Ward stared down at me with those dark pools beneath his brow. "I'm sorry. I was just..."

Trailing off as if he didn't know how to finish, the rest of his sentiment came out barely above his breath, "I was worried I had gotten you into trouble again."

I nodded, about to affirm to Ward that everything had more or less gone well, but Ward turned to Beckett, adressing him for the first time. "Thank you for protecting her. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I lost another good friend."

I glanced at Beckett, who seemed taken slightly aback but he did a good job of recovering, shrugging and chuckling a little. "You should be thanking her. All I'm here to do is talk back and look pretty."

I looked back to Ward and my own eyes widened when he cracked a wry smile; even when we had been together, Ward rarely smiled. I almost only ever saw him do it around children. My stomach tightened in anxiety at that thought, but I choked it down. Chuckling lowly, Ward replied, "Easy to believe."

Looking back to me, he said, "Thanks for coming back in one piece, Belle."

I blushed; the only person other than Ward who had ever made a habit of calling me Belle was my dad. I had been named Mininelle after my grandmother, and due to my less-than-average adult height, most people that didn't say my full name just called me Mini. I wasn't sure how I felt about the sound of it coming out of Ward's mouth anymore. Straitening his leathery hat, he ushered us toward his trailer. "Come on in, I can tell you what I've found out about the kid."

Beckett's voice had a tinge of desperation when he called behind the other man, "You found out where Frankie is?"

Ward sat at his desk and I slid the trailer door shut behind all of us, happy to be out of public and away from the rubberneckers. I couldn't blame them for being curious, drama was entertaining, but I still didn't love being at the center of it. Ward held up his hand, reaching into his pocket for a small notebook and pencil. There were names and sentences scrawled in his haphazard chickenscratch, and glancing down at it he said, "Turns out Davie took quite a liking to your brother while he was staying here, and noticed a rover that looked a lot like him maybe 3-5 weeks ago. Apparently the guy denied being Frankie when the kid asked him about it, but Davie was pretty convinced it was him. Says he recognized his freckles, because that's how he always remembered his name, he called him Frankie Freckles."

Beckett breathed in sharply and I lay a hand on his shoulder. Both brothers had a large smattering of freckles on their cheekbones, shoulders, and arms. It wasn't uncommon, but they were certainly an identifying trait. "I bet Frankie hated that, he was always self-conscious about them. Did the kid say anything else?"

Ward nodded, making eye contact with me for a moment before returning his gaze to Beckett. I raised my eyebrow, wondering what was coming. "Mmhm. Says he heard the rover asking Samuel an awful lot of questions about Crater."

My heart sank into my chest. Crater wasn't the lawless, no mans land that some of the settlers of Foundation percieved to be, but it was still largely populated by pirates and even though some of them were okay enough people, we had _just_ rescued Frankie from the clutches of a rogue raider faction, and I wasn't jumping up and down to do it again. I didn't think Beckett could do it again. Not being able to save his brother from his own hubris might break him. Beckett's body lowered down onto the couch, face sinking into his hands as he chanted lowly, "No, no, no, _fucking Frankie."_

Ward's dark gaze seemed to soften with sympathy, as if it were the first time he considered Beckett's emotions and the weight of the responsibility the other man might feel for his sibling. Sighing, he grabbed the bottle of liquor he had offered me yesterday, passing it over his desk to me, who handed it to Beck. "I know it's none of my business, but you seem like you really care about the kid. I spoke with Samuel and he said this guy didn't really ask many alarming questions, just some general information on Crater rumors, and how long it might take to get there on foot."

Wade looked back to me as Beckett took a swig of the dark liquid, nodding. I partook as well before setting it back atop Ward's desk. Tipping his hat my direction, Ward continued, "Belle's probably your best chance at a liaison for Crater, so luck's up your ass in that department. If you do find him, let him know he's welcome back to Foundation with a clean slate if he feels like he needs his own space. We need as many able bodies as we can get ahold of, and I'm not here to throw stones in glass houses about anyone's past."

His words surprised me so much I found myself closing the space between Ward and me, leaning down to hug him tightly across the collar; I could feel his dark stubble raking against my cheek and neck. He stiffened momentarily but quickly relaxed, clasping his arms loosely around me as if he knew it was probably the last time we two would be so close, and wanted to enjoy it. "Thank you, Ward. You're a good friend."

He cleared his throat then, leaning away from my embrace. "Well you really saved my ass getting those stims back. If we'd had an accident before the next shipment, we'd have been in real trouble. Speaking of trouble, what happened to you two last night?"

I glanced back at Beckett, who had an unreadable expression on his face; reminded of the strange creature we had seen the night before. Turning back to Ward I said, "The good news is we were only late because of that freak storm a few miles out. The bad news is there might be a new kind of monster in the area for you to look out for."

After filling Ward in and returning the stolen goods Beckett and I departed, and even though the news on Frankie was generally ambiguous I could feel the worry radiating off of him. As we made our way back toward home we slowly formulated a plan for a trip to Crater. It was so far north it would be almost two days on foot, so we would have to pack plenty of food and decide where to camp out in advance. Luckily I had been to and from Crater more than a handful of times, and knew a few secluded hidey-holes we might be able to make use of on our journey to find Frankie.


End file.
